"Thank God," George said for the second time. "Whew," he added, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. "I wouldn't want to live through another afternoon like this one for anything."

  "I'm glad she's all right," Elizabeth said quietly.

  "Look, Liz," George began. "We can't go on this way. I know you're upset with me about what happened with Robin, but I told you—all of that's finished. I wouldn't hurt Enid now for anything. Can't you believe that?"

  Elizabeth traced the outline of the square of linoleum with the toe of her sandal. She wished she could believe it. But if it was true, why had George gone to see Robin the other day? And if he'd been hiding this from Enid for so long, how could Elizabeth possibly trust him now? "No," she said finally, turning away, "I can't."

  "You have to!" George pleaded. "Don't you see," he pointed out, "how hard it would be on Enid if she thought things weren't perfect? After everything she's been through—"

  Elizabeth spun on George, her eyes blazing with anger. "I don't think I need you to tell me how to treat my best friend. I'd never say a word to her about you and Robin. That's your business. But that doesn't mean I have to pretend that everything's fine when I'm talking to you, does it? When I think about how much Enid loves you, how trusting she is—and how she almost killed herself trying to save you—"

  Elizabeth couldn't help herself. Tears were streaming down her face.

  "Stop it!" George cried. "Liz, don't you think I've thought about all that? And Enid isn't the only one I've hurt," he added bitterly. "I hurt Robin, too. And because of me Robin hurt Allen. Don't you think I realize what I've done?"

  Elizabeth shuddered. She didn't want to sympathize with George. It didn't seem fair. Enid was too close to her for that, and every time she recalled the way her best friend had looked before the operation she wanted to cry. But at the same time she couldn't help feeling for George. He looked so tired, so unhappy—

  Elizabeth never got to finish her thought. Just then the door to the waiting room opened, and Mrs. Rollins came back in, her eyes shining with tears.

  "She's OK," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "The doctors say my baby's really OK. And they say she's going to walk again!"

  "Of course she will," Elizabeth said soothingly, putting her arm around the exhausted woman. "She's going to be just fine."

  "She looks so peaceful," Mrs. Rollins went on, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Oh, I'm so relieved that she's going to be all right."

  Elizabeth shot George a look as she helped Mrs. Rollins to the elevator. We're all relieved, she was thinking to herself. I'm so happy for Enid that I could cry myself.

  One thing was keeping Elizabeth from sharing in Mrs. Rollins's joy. What was George going to do now that Enid's paralysis had been cured? Wouldn't this free him to do as he chose?

  And there was no way of knowing how Enid—weak and vulnerable as she would be in the days following the operation—would take it when George made his true feelings known at last.

  Six

  Midafternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows in the student lounge, where Robin Wilson was reading the newspaper. It was her study hall, and she had lots of work she knew she ought to be doing. But she just couldn't keep her mind on anything lately. She'd turned two papers in late, and Ms. Taylor had shaken her head at Robin when she handed back the math test.

  I'm making a mess of everything, Robin thought unhappily. To top it all off, she was beginning to gain weight. The only thing she'd been able to find in her closet that fit her that morning was an old wraparound shirt, left over from her "fat" days. No more food for a while, Robin had promised herself when she stepped off the scale. She'd gained ten pounds, and she hated the way she looked. It took too long to get myself thin. I'm not going to let my figure go because my whole life is falling apart.

  But the boiled egg she'd had for breakfast and the small salad at lunchtime hadn't done much to cheer Robin up. And the more she thought about it, the more she had to feel gloomy about. In the first week following the plane crash, Robin had focused her attention on Enid's condition. The crash had occurred ten days ago. Now the news was all over school that Enid had gone home from the hospital and her doctor thought she'd be walking in days. Robin's first reaction had been tremendous relief, both for Enid and for George. Despite all that had happened, she still loved George, and she'd been suffering for him as long as Enid was in danger.

  I'm so glad for Enid, she thought now, putting the newspaper aside and staring listlessly out the window. But Robin had to admit that her relief was mingled with misery. Not that she wasn't delighted Enid was going to be OK—that wasn't it at all.

  The truth was that Robin had been unbearably lonely since the accident. Before she had met George in her flying class, she'd spent most of her time with Allen. After George, of course, seeing Allen was unfair. She could never have led him on, and she knew she had done the right thing when she'd told him they'd have to break up.

  Now she didn't have Allen or George. George had stuck fast to his decision not to call her or drop by to see her, and she knew he was doing the right thing. It wouldn't be fair to hope he would change his mind, either. He owed it to Enid to stick by her as long as she needed him.

  But Robin missed George terribly. She had never fallen in love this way before, and she had a feeling it was going to be a long, long time before she forgot him. No matter how often she reminded herself that George had to stand by Enid now, she found herself longing to see him—to hold him in her arms. Robin was also desperately in need of the companionship and advice of her close girlfriends now. They could have helped her to get through this rocky time.

  But that was the hardest thing of all. For some reason that she didn't understand, Robin found that everyone she knew at school was avoiding her. At first she thought she was inventing the whole thing. But by now it was too obvious to ignore. Cara refused to sit next to her in history; DeeDee and Susan switched teams in gym class when Robin joined their group; Lila walked away from her when Robin tried to ask her a question; and Jessica changed two more cheerleading practices without telling her. It's some kind of weird conspiracy, Robin thought unhappily, and I don't know why it's happening. All I know is that I want to stop it.

  The door opened, and Elizabeth Wakefield came in, a book in her hand. She spotted Robin and looked at her with dismay. She made a move as if to leave, but Robin jumped out of her chair and rushed over to her.

  "Please don't go, Liz," she whispered. There were other students in the room, and she didn't want them to overhear her. "I feel like I've got the plague or something!"

  "What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, closing the door behind her.

  "Everyone's been avoiding me lately," Robin said miserably. "I've got no idea what I've done wrong. Please don't go."

  Elizabeth sighed. "All right," she conceded, sinking into a chair across from Robin's.

  Robin stared at her as she opened her book and began to leaf through the pages. It's happening again, she thought miserably, She's going to avoid me too. I can't stand it any longer! She's just going to read her book and pretend I don't even exist!

  "Liz," she said impulsively, leaning forward in her chair, "what are you doing today after school?"

  "Todd and I have plans," Elizabeth said. "Why?"

  "I've got to talk to you," Robin said. "Do you think you could squeeze in a sundae with me at Casey's?"

  Elizabeth shook her head, her blue-green eyes sympathetic. "Sorry," she said. "I promised Todd."

  Robin's eyes filled with tears. "Liz, I'm begging you," she said desperately. "Something's going on around here, and I've got to talk to someone about it—someone I can trust. You're my only hope!"

  Elizabeth sighed and lowered her book. "OK," she said at last. "I'll meet you at Casey's at four o'clock."

  She doesn't want to be seen with me! Robin thought miserably. She's probably afraid if we walk over there together people will talk.

  For the life of her, Robin couldn't understand why Elizabeth—and everyone else she knew—was acting so strange around her. All she knew was that she had to do something about it soon.

  Because if things go on this way much longer, Robin thought miserably, I'm going to die of loneliness.

  The usual after-school hubbub filled Casey's when Elizabeth strolled back to a corner booth at five minutes to four. She wasn't surprised to see Robin waiting there for her already. The girl had sounded so urgent that Elizabeth had a feeling she'd been waiting quite a while. She was probably afraid I wouldn't show up, Elizabeth thought. The truth of the matter was she had thought about not coming. But it just seemed too unfair.

  Elizabeth felt like a traitor as she slid into the booth across from Robin. Todd, as always, had been understanding about the change of plans. They were going to drop by Enid's house and see how she was doing. I could hardly tell Enid I couldn't make it because I was meeting Robin Wilson to talk about George, Elizabeth thought with a sigh. The more she thought about it, the less she understood why she had agreed to see Robin.

  "What'll it be today, girls?" the waitress asked, taking out her note pad. Robin thought for a minute. "A hot fudge sundae," she said finally.

  "Just an iced tea for me, please," Elizabeth said, and the waitress walked away.

  Robin flushed. "I shouldn't have a sundae, really. I've started to put some weight back on."

  "You look fine to me," Elizabeth fibbed. As a matter of fact, Robin did look as if she'd gained some weight. But Elizabeth hadn't come there to make small talk.

  "Liz," Robin began nervously, fiddling with her napkin, "can I ask you womething?"

  "Sure," Elizabeth replied. "What is it?"

  "Is it my imagination, or have people been avoiding me lately?"

  Elizabeth looked confused. "I'm not sure what you mean, Robin. Who's been avoiding you?"

  "Well, what about you, for example?" Robin continued. "Haven't you been avoiding me?"

  "Well," Elizabeth said after a moment. "I suppose in a way I have been."

  "Why?" Robin demanded. "What have I done?"

  Elizabeth leaned back in the booth and gripped the table with both hands. "I don't really feel comfortable talking about this," she said finally. "Robin, I think I'd better go."

  "No, Liz, wait!" Robin cried. "Please tell me!" she begged. "I really want to know what's going on!"

  "Well," Elizabeth said finally, looking Robin straight in the eyes, "I didn't mean to avoid you, Robin, or hurt your feelings. But after what you and George told me that morning at the airfield, I feel kind of awkward around you. As long as Enid's still in such bad shape—"

  Robin fiddled with her spoon. "But George and I are all through, Liz. Doesn't that change the way you feel?"

  Elizabeth felt her face flushing. Then why was George over at your house last Monday? she wondered. Aloud all she could say was that she couldn't help her feelings—and she still felt awkward around both Robin and George.

  "Well, just think how I feel, Liz," Robin complained. "No one at school will talk to me. And as for George—I've only spoken to him once since the accident. And that was to confirm what we both had decided independently—not to see each other again, unless—"

  "Unless what?" Elizabeth demanded, her eyes flashing. "Unless Enid gets better, right?"

  Robin stared dully at the tabletop. "George never said that," she admitted. "But I suppose if I'm honest, yes, I hope that happens! If Enid were to get completely better, why couldn't George tell her the way he'd planned to at first? The way I told Allen?"

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. "I'm sorry, Robin, but I just can't listen to this. Enid is my best friend, and I can't bear to think—I mean Enid isn't all better! She's had a terrible shock. And if George were to break up with her—"

  "George won't break up with her!" Robin cried. "Liz, you're not listening to me!"

  "I can't listen," Elizabeth said unhappily. "I just can't be objective about this. I'm sorry, Robin, but I can't stand this any longer. I've got to go meet Todd."

  Elizabeth hurried out of Casey's, her blond hair flying. She was too upset to look back at the corner booth she'd deserted. She'd had it with Robin and George, both of them. All she wanted now was for Enid to get better. That was the only thing that mattered.

  "Is your friend coming back?" the waitress asked as she set down the sundae and the iced tea.

  Robin shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears, "No," she mumbled, "she isn't."

  None of them are, she told herself miserably. Sighing deeply, Robin began to eat the sundae.

  "When do I get to cook dinner?" Jessica complained, looking critically at the barbecued chicken Mrs . Wakefield was bringing to the table.

  "I don't know," Mrs. Wakefield said vaguely. "Are you sure you're really up to it, dear?"

  "How's Enid?" Mr. Wakefield asked Elizabeth, taking a hot roll from the basket she passed him.

  "Much better, according to Dr. MacGregor," Elizabeth told him. "But—"

  "But what?" Mrs. Wakefield asked.

  "I don't know," Elizabeth said slowly. "She hasn't been out of her wheelchair yet, and the doctor seemed to think she'd be able to walk right away."

  "These things take longer than a week or two," Mrs. Wakefield said soothingly. "Don't worry about it, Liz. I'm sure in the next few days she'll—"

  "Speaking of worry," Jessica interrupted, her mouth full of roll, "did Liz tell you we got a letter today about our jobs?"

  "What jobs?" Mrs. Wakefield asked. "And don't interrupt, Jess. It's rude."

  "Our tour-guide jobs," Jessica said. "We both got letters about it today. They're looking forward to having us work for them this summer, but there's one little catch."

  "And what," Mr. Wakefield asked, sighing, "might that be?"

  "Transportation," Jessica said mournfully. "They don't provide any to the tour center. And we'd have to take two buses to get there, which would take about an hour each way."

  Since the fall, the twins had been looking forward to being tour guides along the scenic coastline near Sweet Valley. It was apparent from their faces that this snag was a real blow to them both.

  "Can you believe it?" Jessica grumbled. "And after we worked so hard at getting accepted. What are we going to do?"

  "We might arrange a solution," Mr. Wakefield said, his eyes twinkling. "Don't you think so, Alice?"

  "You mean one of you would be willing to drive us?" Jessica asked.

  "Let's put them out of their misery." Mrs. Wakefield laughed. "Ned, isn't this a good time to tell the girls about the car?"

  "What car?" Jessica demanded. "Are you guys breaking down and buying us a Jaguar?"

  Mr. Wakefield burst out laughing. "Not quite," he told her. "But your mother and I have decided it's time that she got herself a new car. She could really use something a little newer, and, because of her interior design business, something a little bigger. And that means—"

  "That Liz and I get the Fiat!" Jessica shrieked. "Ye!"

  "As long as you're careful with it," Mrs. Wakefield warned. "And as long as you two manage to share it without killing each other. Is that a deal?"

  "It's a deal," Elizabeth and Jessica said in unison, exchanging grins.

  "Getting back to Enid," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "Any objections to my having a small dinner party here on Friday evening? It'll just be Todd and me and George and Enid," she added hastily. "And I'll clean everything up. I just wanted to have a kind of celebration for her. She may be walking by then!"

  "It's fine with me," Mrs. Wakefield said. "We're going out on Firday night. Aren't we, Ned?"

  "You're not kidding." Mr. Wakefield grinned. "We've got a date."

  "What about you, Jess?" Elizabeth asked. "Have you got a date Friday night?"

  Jessica pouted. "Not exactly," she said demurely. Her parents exchanged puzzled glances, and she sat up straighter in her chair, tossing her sun-streaked hair. "I mean, I could have a date if I wanted one," she explained. "But guys our age suddenly seem so babyish to me. Actually, I was planning on getting some cookbooks out of the library to read over the weekend. We're graduating to chicken cordon bleu next week, and I want to be ready."

  "Is this the girl who turns up her nose at helping me barbecue hamburgers?" Mr. Wakefield asked.

  "Hamburgers are gauche," Jessica told him. "What I like is called haute cuisine. You guys probably don't know what that means."

  "Jessica," Mrs. Wakefield said warningly. "I hope your haute cuisine includes putting les dishes into la dishwasher."

  "Not really," Jessica admitted, crestfallen. "Oh, all right," she grumbled, pushing her chair back. Taken as she was with cooking these days, Jessica still despised dishes.

  "Do you want some help?" Elizabeth asked, hanging over the counter in the Spanish-tiled kitchen to watch Jessica at work.

  "Well, as a matter of fact—" Jessica began sweetly.

  "Good," Elizabeth said, too absorbed in her own thoughts to listen to her twin's response. "Then I think I'll go up and make a phone call." She walked away, leaving her twin staring after her.

  As she dialed Todd's number, Elizabeth curled up in her favorite position in the armchair in her bedroom. But not even the prospect of hearing Todd's voice lifted her spirits.

  She wasn't so sure her parents were right. Dr. MacGregor had said Enid should be on her feet by now.

  And the way things were going, it didn't look as if Enid ever planned to get out of that wheelchair. Elizabeth had a terrible feeling that something was bothering Enid. Really bothering her.

  And Elizabeth planned to find out what was going on the very first chance she got.

  Seven

  "This looks wonderful, Liz," Enid said appreciatively as Elizabeth carried a steaming bowl of spaghetti to the dining room table.

  Elizabeth tried to smile. She had done everything she could to insure the night would be a success. She'd dimmed the lights in the Wakefield dining room, setting candles on the table to make the room look festive. And she'd used one of her mother's tried-and-true recipes for the spaghetti sauce. Todd had put some classical music on in the living room, and the total effect was charming.